


it's hotter than hell where i'm at

by Anonymous



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Come Shot, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 23:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17928128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Renjun reckons he never could get quite enough.It's a pressing matter, as always. There's something addictive about Jaemin, in ways he haven't felt before, that drives him to turn a switch inside his brain, do things before processing, filtering.





	it's hotter than hell where i'm at

Renjun reckons he never could get quite enough.

 

It's a pressing matter, as always. There's something addictive about Jaemin, in ways he haven't felt before, that drives him to turn a switch inside his brain, do things before processing, filtering. And well—there's no problem with that, honestly, Jaemin is no complainer.

 

“Can I try something?” Renjun asks once he gets to take a breath, panting slightly against Jaemin’s mouth.

 

Jaemin stares at him, blinking idly, almost gaping at his cherry and plump lips. Bashful, Renjun looks down at his hands now on his lap, fiddling with his fingers, and then regains confidence once he thinks—and feels—the growing need in between them. He shifts experimentally on Jaemin's lap, who responds with a light squeeze on his hips.

 

“What is it?”

 

“You'll see.”

 

And just like that, Renjun throws any nervousness left on his body out the window, and confidently shuffles down Jaemin’s body. Jaemin misses the heat, the comfort, and reaches out to him so he can haul him back up and kiss him once again.

 

Though, Renjun realizes, the confusion and worry written on Jaemin’s face isn't because of him suddenly getting off his lap. Maybe Renjun didn't think that far ahead. And maybe it only excites him further.

 

“Wait—why are you,” Jaemin looks down at Renjun shifting lower, positioning himself in between Jaemin's legs, “what?”

 

“I told you,” a smile, “I wanna try something.”

 

“But—”

 

Any complaint dies in his mouth the moment Renjun levels his head with Jaemin’s crotch.

 

“No, Junnie—”

 

Jaemin sits up and Renjun just stares, puzzled.

 

“Were you planning on…?”

 

“Sucking your dick? Yes.”

 

That stirs something in him, Renjun can tell. And he thrives on slowly making Jaemin crumble, that sensation numbing any anxiety he could feel.

 

“Junnie!” He exclaims, “fuck, just—you shouldn't if you don't want to.”

 

“I want to, I literally told you I wanted to try.”

 

With Jaemin’s cheeks dusted in pink, Renjun is really starting to wonder just how much it affects him, how deeply it touches him. And it empowers him, in a way. That he can turn Na Jaemin into utter putty.

 

“But—”

 

“Are you getting shy on me? Na Jaemin?” teasingly, he crawls back up and smirks at him up close, just so he can watch closely the way Jaemin’s face contorts, “haven't you done this before?”

 

“Yeah! But with you it's  _ different _ .”

 

It melts him, outside and inside.

 

“How so?” Renjun presses still, because there's another thing about it that's exciting him more.

 

“Because I don't wanna rush into things with you—I wanna enjoy and not pressure you into anything, and—”

 

Luckily, the need and tension overcomes Renjun as Jaemin keeps on explaining, so he gives up in listening, assuring Jaemin of what he wants, and instead, Renjun shows him. With a hand sneaking up his crotch, Renjun applies pressure just in time. The gasp that leaves Jaemin’s pink lips is satisfactory enough.

 

“ _ God _ .” 

 

“Let me do it.”

 

And so, Renjun joins their lips and relishes in the air of control and power over Jaemin that he has, before Jaemin imposes himself—takes control of the kiss, of Renjun’s heart and body, and plays it like a muppet. Because just with the smallest amount of pressure against him, Renjun submits to his desires, and to Jaemin's pace. 

 

Still, once Renjun sets his mind on something, he's impossible to mold. And the kiss doesn't last long enough to make Jaemin change his mind—it only encourages him further.

 

Renjun starts by caressing Jaemin's sides, above his shirt, and so his hands entertain him while he shifts down once again and comes face to face with Jaemin’s bulge. There's a weight on his stomach, similar to nerves, but strangely growing incessantly with every sound that leaves Jaemin's mouth.

 

“Fuck, I might die.”

 

“I haven't even started,” Renjun quips, and pinches his thigh with one hand.

 

“But just by looking at your face,” a shudder, “I feel like exploding.”

 

So Renjun smirks just to get Jaemin to that point, take him to his unknown limits. That earns a groan from Jaemin, who throws his head back and avoids eye-contact for three good seconds. It gives him enough time to gather up the courage to get closer and closer, until he's basically breathing over Jaemin’s crotch.

 

Once Jaemin's gaze is back on him, Renjun looks straight into his eyes when he noses at his pajama pants, and Jaemin's eyes roll back with the bare pressure. He feels powerful in unthinkable ways. 

 

“Are you sure—”

 

“Yes,  _ Nana, _ ” he assures once again, and then brings his other hand up so he's holding himself on his elbows, and cups Jaemin through his clothes, “I’m one hundred percent sure.”

 

It's all in the sounds, in the elaborated breathing, in the worry and the words. They are all building up, brick by brick, Renjun's overflowing confidence. Of course, it falters at times, as he attempts to slowly get rid of Jaemin’s pants, but they get stuck as there's obviously  _ someone wearing it. _

 

Yet, Jaemin has mercy on him, and lifts up his hips, seemingly unaware of any changes in Renjun's behavior but eagerness. Which is good, extremely. Because he wants to take apart Jaemin in every way possible, with a strong demeanor, piercing eyes, skilled tongue. He wants to try and see for himself—what that power and control feels like.

 

“ _ Baby _ ,” he cants his hips up so slightly Renjun wouldn't have noticed if his face wasn't so near. But he takes his time, and tries to not get affected by Jaemin's state. 

 

There's a spot on his underwear—and Renjun is sure he's dealing with the same problem under all his clothes. But he keeps focused on Jaemin, pants now discarded on the floor, and noses once again at his crotch now lacking of one layer. Renjun's lips ghost over the material, so smoothly, and from where he's holding himself he can feel the shudder that touches all of Jaemin’s nerves. 

 

Time is key, in these situations.

 

If the wants to take Jaemin down, that is. And he tries his best, looking up at Jaemin through his eyelashes, attempting to maintain that innocent glint, as he darts his tongue out and gives him a testing lick. Just over his underwear, to see, tease. Jaemin doesn't keep his mouth shut, no—his head falls back and his throat is like an open faucet, every breath and groan being let out shamelessly. It's addicting and thrilling, and Renjun would like to keep his eyes on him all the time but he decides to fix them to the task at hand.

 

Slowly, he pulls down Jaemin’s underwear. And it's all so gradual, nearing torture, given by Jaemin’s grip on the sheets and moans that almost make Renjun laugh, because Renjun  _ barely _ touched him.

 

“You're really—eager.”

 

“Well, you should be in my place,” Jaemin pants.

 

“I should do this more often.”

 

And Jaemin throws his head back once more, so Renjun takes the chance and slips his cock out carefully and holds it for a moment. Until Jaemin’s eyes are open again and back on him, and that's when he sticks his tongue out and swipes it over the head—slow. Like every single action, keeping a pace that will drive Jaemin insane. 

 

Instantly, Jaemin moans and curses under his breath, putting so much force on trying not to move his hips that the veins on his arms start to stand out. And maybe Renjun's a little dizzy too.

 

Renjun continues licking at his head, collecting the considerable amount of precome at the slit with his tongue. And he's done this maybe a handful of times, or less, but it strangely feels like a first. Everything with Jaemin does. So the taste, it should disgust him to no end, but in the heat of the moment he feels nothing but powerful. As Jaemin can't keep still anymore and his knuckles turn white.

 

“Your dick isn't even  _ inside _ my mouth yet,” Renjun comments, Jaemin’s cock twitching in his hand, and the vibrations of his voice so near to it only stimulating further, “give me your hand.”

 

Jaemin complies, of course.

 

So satisfied, Renjun guides Jaemin's hand to his hair, or his jaw, or whatever part of his body Jaemin wants to hold on onto. Jaemin chooses to grab his hair, lightly, not wanting to hurt him because it seems like that's all thought inside his head. But Renjun takes it as it comes, content enough with the pressure of a hand somewhere.

 

With a hum, Renjun gets back to it. His tongue giving kitten licks to the head while one of his hands start stroking from the base up, overflowing Jaemin with sensations. There are many sounds, different kinds from groans to whines, to Renjun's name whispered into the air. And he feels full. So much power, he puts Jaemin's entire cock in his mouth.

 

Jaemin pulls at his hair with a low moan. And maybe that's all Renjun wanted.

 

He feels himself leaking inside his own underwear, yet the focus remains all on Jaemin. Pleasuring him, bringing him to the edge and beyond, to limits he hasn't explored before. It's a goal, and Renjun is not one to give up easily. Languidly, he bobs his head up and down, lips pressing on every ridge of Jaemin’s dick, the entire length getting inside his warm mouth and then exposed to the coldness of Jaemin’s room. The mix of sensations must really affect him, as a string of wails leave his mouth. Renjun feels fulfilled.

 

“ _ Fuck _ —”

 

Again, he sucks at the head, shifts down and then up, starting a pace. And Jaemin's hand on his hair seems to be some kind of motivation, as he pulls tentatively and then pushes his head down along Renjun's own will. 

 

It's good, addicting. The taste and the weight on his mouth. So Renjun decides to have a bit of mercy on him, speeding up his movements and focusing on the upper part of his length, while his hand works on the base at the same pace. Jaemin can only curse, choke on a moan and then groan loudly, husky and deep. The grip on his hair tightens, and Renjun doesn't mind.

 

“ _ Baby _ ,” he moans.

 

Pathetically, Renjun feels his own cock twitching, and he gifts himself just a bit of grinding on the bed to relieve some pressure. But the spotlight isn't his, so he adds more pressure with his lips just to get that reaction out of Jaemin again, sucking while moving up, and then down again with a twist of his hand and head. 

 

Now, Renjun isn't able to distinguish whether Jaemin is pulling at his hair out of bliss, or because he  _ knows _ .

 

So he relishes in it, and pulls Jaemin's cock out of his mouth.

 

“Sorry, did I hurt you—”

 

“No, it's ok. I—like it,” Rejun reassures him, getting a glance of Jaemin's entire state. Eyes glazed over, red bitten lips, the veins on his arms and neck protruding, and the mess of his recently bleached hair. And  _ oh _ , Renjun realizes. His scalp being sensitive from dyeing his hair must be a factor, a reason, why he's nearly in shambles just from Jaemin’s hand tangled on his locks.

 

Though, Jaemin keeps his hand still, afraid of hurting him, or fucking up. And it's endearing, truly. And Renjun would like to straight up tell him that the more it hurts the  _ better _ . 

 

Renjun laps gently at his head, with such carefulness that makes Jaemin impatient, and glances up at him to make eye contact as he places his cock on his mouth and waits innocently—like he's just sucking on a lollipop, and he has all the time in the world. Jaemin looks back at him, with bottomless eyes that roll back once he takes in the sight, and Renjun is sucking at the head again. The taste shouldn't turn him on as much as it does, shouldn't be as addicting as it is. Swallowing the mix of spit and precum that is at the slit, it's no surprise that Renjun starts to think about Jaemin finishing down his throat.

 

“Fuck, Junnie, I’m—”

 

Every curse, every moan, every sound that Jaemin’s plush lips form, are an encouragement. Renjun continues working at the base lazily with his hands, and begins to do things with his mouth that he has the knowledge would take anyone down. Like tracing, slowly, his tongue on the vein jutting out from the middle and up, then adding pressure on the underside, just below the head, with the tip, and then swallowing around the entire length—once, twice, fast and messy. Jaemin thrashes on the bed, cursing under his breath and pulling at Renjun's golden hair, not exactly pushing down but holding him. Still, he seems unable to control his body, losing control and snapping his hips up, making Renjun gargle on his cock.

 

Which he enjoys, incredibly so, bashfully so.

 

He doesn't get to apologize because Renjun has the entire thing in his mouth again in seconds, picking up that light-heading pace, dipping down and then up. Renjun’s neck starts to hurt, just a bit. But the prospect of getting Jaemin to his limits numbs him of any sensation, any pain or disgust or shame. There's spit dribbling down his chin, and Jaemin’s cock shines with the mixture of liquids. It's  _ messy _ . The kind of dirtiness Renjun never thought he could achieve.

 

So he swallows down, hollows his cheeks and sucks, and as he retreats his hand and replaces it with his lips—the head of Jaemin's cock almost touching his throat—Renjun reaches to hold onto Jaemin's bare thigh, and pinches. Jaemin  _ hisses _ and finally tugs on his hair with unconscious strength, out of a mere reaction. And God, Renjun is leaking so much he doesn't even want to think about getting off just by sucking Jaemin's cock. Which would be ideal, really, and new. Because no other experience with anyone else has been as thrilling and  _ hot _ as this one.

 

“I think,  _ oh _ ,” Jaemin starts while Renjun slows down the movements of his head, and looks up at him this time through his messy bangs, “I'm about to come.”

 

Renjun doesn't respond, just pinches his thigh again as a signal for him to just  _ grab his hair and control him _ and then puts that hand back on the base of Jaemin's dick, just so he gets the full variation of sensations. He bobs his head up and down rapidly, once, two, three times—until the hand on his hair is pulling him off and eliciting a whine from him.

 

“Junnie, I’m gonna come,” Jaemin warns him, chest heaving and eyes droopy. Renjun is surprised he can actually speak. And it's so fulfilling, having taken Jaemin to that state.

 

“I know, you told me,” his voice is kind of rough, he notices, and he swallows around nothing and misses the weight of Jaemin on his tongue.

 

Slyly, he starts stroking Jaemin seemingly idly, remaining unfazed as Jaemin gasps and throws his head back, obviously sensitive. He continues his ministrations, lapping at the head again, and that's when Jaemin trembles, freezes, and the grip on his hair tightens so much Renjun fears he might just pull of a chunk of hair (still, he moans). Like that, Jaemin is suddenly coming, and there's no time for Renjun to back away, he stays still and inwardly enjoys the streaks of Jaemin hitting some sections of his face, most of it landing and accumulating on his hand. 

 

“Sorry, sorry,” Jaemin apologizes as soon as he comes back down, caressing the side of his face with one hand and cleaning him with the other. He wipes it off on the duvet, and Renjun wished he was brave enough to grab his hand and lick it off his fingers. Some other time, he guesses (and maybe Jaemin coming down his throat, too).

 

“It's ok—”

 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” and so Jaemin kisses him, and Renjun hopes he's tasting himself, “you're— _ God _ .” 

 

Renjun giggles, dropping any smugness he wanted to keep. Because the amount of love that fills him is unbearable, almost, and he has no time to make witty remarks. He kisses Jaemin again and helps him put on his boxers.

 

“Next time you're coming in my mouth.”

 

Jaemin chokes. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
